


In Which Snyder is a Shitbag™

by feathertail, FeralCreed



Series: RP Fics [7]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: AU, Canon Era, M/M, Post-Refuge Davey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 18:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathertail/pseuds/feathertail, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreed/pseuds/FeralCreed
Summary: Six months ago, David Jacobs' tenement building burnt down. He alone survived. Upon his flight to the newsboys' lodging house, he was captured by the Spider, sentenced to six months in the Refuge. What will he find on his release?12/7/18 This story will no longer be continued.





	In Which Snyder is a Shitbag™

Six months ago today, David Jacobs' tenement building caught ablaze. Out late on his paper run, he didn't know until it was too late. All the occupants were declared dead when the firemen finally put it out, hours later, but by that time Davey had vanished as well. Devastated, he had fled to the Newsies' lodging house, but never made it to the arms of his friends, or Jack, his boyfriend of only a few days, really. Snyder and his men, always lurking around about there, had snatched him silently from the street.  
  
And now he was free, sentence in the Refuge served, and he looked like a different person. His clothes, dirty, bloodstained, torn, hung off his frame now, after six months of barely eating, drinking, the roughhousing of the boys and guards alike, and barely washing. He was covered in scrapes and bruises, limping heavily, when he staggered up the fire escape outside the lodging house. He tapped weakly on the window, slumping against the wall and sitting weakly on the steps. He couldn't crack his eyes open as it slid open, but he could hear the muttered confusion among the boys.  
  
"'S Davey," he mumbled, as he heard multiple variations of "who is it?"  
  
Jack had lost a lot six months ago. Les and Davey, both dead, and while he'd been friends with both of them... Davey had been something more. A lot of the boys had missed them, but none like Jack had. He was missing a lot more than two newsboys, he was missing someone he'd wanted to devote considerable portions of his life to.  
  
And then there was a fuss one night, out at one of the windows. Jack dragged himself out of bed and was met by a far too excited Race on the stairs, babbling something about... Davey? Jack made a dismissive noise, leading the way back down the staircase.  
  
"C'mon, Race, you know that ain't possible. Davey's dead, has been for six months." And Jack really wasn't in the mood to discuss any alternatives, not with how tired he was, and the fact that he'd been woken up in the middle of the night. Race started to say something but Jack waved him off, coming into the room where the window had been tapped.  
  
"All right, boys, shove off, lemme see." He poked his head out the window, curious as to just who this was that had caused such a ruckus. Then he paled as soon as he saw Davey's face, and swore violently under his breath.  
  
"Who is it?" someone asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.  
  
"S'Davey," Jack said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. "Out!" he yelled a couple seconds later, cutting through the resulting chatter. "Everybody fucking out, find somewhere else." The boys started to disperse and Jack turned his attention back to Davey.  
  
"Hey, you," he addressed him, trying to ignore the fact that his voice was shaking. "Didn't expect to see you again, at least not for a long time." He reached out and gently touched his fingertips to Davey's cheek, wondering just what the hell had happened to him in the past long six months.  
  
Davey was slipping in and out of focus and consciousness, all noise bleeding into one long blur of meaningless jumble. When everything fell quiet, he managed to force his eyes open and try to focus on the one face in front of him. One he, thankfully, recognised, even as tired as he was.  
  
"Jack," he breathed softly, that single, four letter word even taking a lot out of him as he struggled to do... anything.  
  
He flinched away as Jack shouted, but it didn't take him far, more a couple of centimetres; he just didn't have the energy for more. He twitched visibly at the touch, something that, had he been whole and healthy, wouldn't have been visible, but he was so skinny and beaten up that every movement was visible.  
  
"Snyder got me," he managed to slur, canting forwards slightly, weakening with every moment. Soon he'd just be a pile of mush. "Tried... Com'n' here 'fter m'house burnt," he mumbled, eyelids sliding shut over the unnatural dullness of his usually bright blue eyes. "Got me couple blocks 'way." And then he really had no power in the bank, and he keeled forwards.  
  
Hearing Davey say his name again did things to Jack's heart. It felt like he couldn't breathe for a second, which led to him being harsher with the boys than he usually was. They scampered, though, and left the two of them alone. At the moment, that was all that Jack wanted, was to touch Davey again and make sure he wasn't a ghost. He couldn't imagine this all being some kind of elaborate deception, but he'd certainly been desperate enough when Davey had first 'died' to believe almost anything.  
  
"S'okay, Davey," he said softly when the other boy flinched, stilling his hand. "I ain't ever gonna hurt you, and none of the boys will either. You're safe here, you made it." And there was no way he would let anyone come and take this boy away from him again, not after everything they'd both been through. God, did Davey even know...?  
  
The other's explanation at least told him that Davey knew his house was gone, and thank god, because Jack didn't even know how he would break that news. But coming here, he hadn't expected to hear that. He frowned when Davey closed his eyes, wondering if he should get him to open them again or not. All questions flew out the window as soon as Davey fell, and Jack only barely managed to catch him in time.  
  
"No, no, no," he said in a rush, instantly feeling for a pulse. Davey was breathing, at least, and Jack yelled for two of the boys. They appeared almost before Jack finished saying their names, and helped him get Davey inside without hurting him. Jack put him in the closest bed, not even worrying about whether or not such liberties would be welcome. The boys both left as suddenly as they'd been summoned, clearly recognising that they weren't welcome despite their help briefly being needed.  
  
Jack cradled Davey's face in his hand, mind blank as he tried to think of what to do. The main thought was to call a doctor, but they didn't have enough money to feed themselves some days, there was no way that they could ever call a doctor out here. And besides, he didn't know if Davey had escaped or been let go or what. He couldn't risk calling the law down on him, not after losing him for so long. He pulled another thin, tattered blanket up over the other's body, tucking it in a little. Whatever happened, there was no way he was moving from this spot until Davey told him to.  
  
Davey's body was limp and unmoving as Jack and the boys moved him inside, save for the wheezing, rattling rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breath, even when he was passed out. He woke after a while, if you could call it waking, eyelids fluttering open and breathing hitching until he found Jack's face in the dark and relaxed. "Jack," he whispered hoarsely, lips twitching in a weak semblance of a smile.  
  
He managed to stay awake for a few minutes, in which he managed to whisper that he was cold, and that Jack was best for warming him up; he was cold to the point where he didn't have any energy to shiver. And then he was out again, and not dreaming peacefully, if the frantic movements of his eyes were anything to go by, but he couldn't muster the energy, even while asleep, to cry out, move, or anything else save turn and hope Jack was there to keep him safe.  
  
Jack didn't at all like how Davey looked. He would have mistaken him for a dead man if he'd simply found him lying there, which scared the hell out of him. To come so close to losing him, to still have him in danger when he should be safe in Jack's arms from all comers... It was a feeling he hated more than anything he'd ever hated before, and he was going to kill Snyder with his own bare hands for doing this.  
  
Finally Davey woke, and Jack resisted the urge to pull him close and hug him tight. "Hey, Davey," he whispered back, his smile barely stronger considering how he felt about the other's appearance. He promised to stay with him, and did exactly so. Apart from getting all the blankets in the room to pile over Davey, he stayed curled up against him all night long. Even though he was tired long before morning, he made himself stay awake. He couldn't keep his hands off Davey as the boy slept, reassuring himself that this wasn't all just a dream.


End file.
